I’ve tried to write several blogs in this past week that
I’ve been in Swaziland but I find them coming out all wrong. My thoughts have
become overwhelmed with the discoveries of harsh cultural differences,
startling statistics that don’t even make sense anymore, hopeful relationships
and false friendships. So, where do I even begin?
Well, I am in Swaziland…I have been for about two weeks now.
I am living in a small town called, Tshaneni. I live on country club grounds,
meaning I get to swim in a pool everyday, play tennis on the two courts they
have here, take a two mile jog through animal reservations grounds and watch
herds of zebra, warthogs, impalas, monkeys, wildebeests, kudos and the occasional
giraffe play in my backyard.
I’ve eaten better this month than I have any other
month on the race. I have a warm shower (not that I need the warmth with the
weather never falling below the 80’s) And overall, it has been a pleasant place
to stay…for me…
For local Swazi’s, it looks completely different.
I am working at a preschool about an hour away from my home.
It’s in another small town called, Buhleni. Corine, our contact this month,
just opened the preschool two weeks before we arrived. (it’s been open for
about a month now) The preschool currently has 40 some orphaned or neglected
children attending, ranging from the ages of three to six.
(I would venture to
say that most of the children have AIDS solely based on statistics) There are
two teachers, two cooks and then several other helpers who make up a committee
for the school along with Corine.
Our assignment was not to find a cure for AIDS, or start a
social justice revolution, it was to simply help out the teachers and play with
the children. Easy enough…right? So, we’ve done just that for the past two
weeks. I’ve formed closer relationships to the teachers and cooks than the
children and started to think that was where I could be used the most. After
all, everyone’s heart breaks from looking at pictures of starving children in
Africa right? But, what about the “starving” adults?
But now I’m confused on what to do or what my purpose is
here. I’ve been betrayed and lied to by the cooks, after forming, what I
thought was a great friendship with them. They taught me the words “love” and
“friendship” in SiSwati and even gave me a SiSwati name (Busisiwe) that means “blessing.”
But, because of the culture that they were raised in, they have no conviction
about stealing food from the children or lying to a friend. Taking advantage of
someone is simply, “their right.” And that is only the beginning of the “harsh
cultural differences, hopeful relationships and false friendships” I mentioned
before.
As for the startling statistics and other cultural
differences, I don’t know how to explain the rest without downplaying the
reality, or worse, dramatizing it. So, as for right now, this is all I can say…
